Tuesday, June 05, 2007
I completely forgot I had that.
My PIC has always been amazed by my ability to forget I have things. These "things" can be anything, from food to yarn to fabric. You name it, I've likely forgotten I have it.
PIC (looking in my cupboard): Oh my God. You have a whole chocolate bar in here?
ME: Oh. Yeah. I completely forgot I had that.
PIC: What are you talking about?
She and I used to work together, and she would often come into my office and ask if I had any food.
ME: Let me look.
I'd pull out a box where I kept snacks.
PIC (dumbfounded): You completely forgot you had that huge bag of Cheetos? How is that possible?!
ME: Hmm. Right. You want some?
This whole thing is generally fine by me. I don't concern myself with it. When it comes to my things, if it's out of sight, it is very likely -- as they say -- out of mind. Then, when I see it again, it's kinda like Christmas. Only paid for already.
But every now and again I amaze myself. Really and truly. I will come across something that is so far out of my awareness that seeing it is like a walk down memory lane. Only with no real nostalgia. More like with some "what the...?" and some "oh, good lord, you're kidding."
This scarf - abandoned after a few strands of fringe - was at the bottom of a pile of yarn that I just went through last week.
As I stared at this scarf, the whole thing came back to me: the lady at the yarn store who convinced me that a metallic yarn would look "so rock 'n' roll" with the tweedy red yarn I'd selected; the 50% off sale and its judgement-impairing properties; the lady telling me to cut the fringe before I started knitting so I wouldn't run out of yarn; my knitting the scarf and having no idea why I was knitting it or who it would be for; my running out of yarn because I hadn't listened to the lady about cutting the fringe first. (Sure. I listened long enough to buy metallic yarn, but not long enough to get the actual good advice she was offering.)
So here I sat, years later, staring at this almost-finished-and-so-very-useless scarf. I stared. I thought. And then I did what I usually do in these situations: I put it back where I found it.
I figure the next time I stumble across it, perhaps I will be pleasantly surprised and only moderately disgusted that I made it. And it will be just like Christmas.